


Je ne sais jamais

by msmarvelftw (orphan_account)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton is George Washington's Foster Son, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Français | French, Hamilton the Hot Mess (tm), Laurens the Lightweight, M/M, Pining, a lot of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 09:28:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13120905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/msmarvelftw
Summary: Everyone’s a (gay) hot mess. That’s it, that’s the fic.





	Je ne sais jamais

John Laurens was many things. Alexander’s best friend, an ambitious student, a determined leader. He was beautiful, inside and out. He would saw off his own arm to help anyone, whether he knew them or not. He was not, however, a person who could handle his drink.

By the start of the third pint, Alex was watching his friend tearing up the dance floor (very poorly, although he wouldn’t say that) and laughing with Lafayette. Mulligan was out there too - on his sixth. When John came dancing clumsily up to them at the bar, he draped himself against Alex’s side and pushed his nose into his neck.

« Je pense que il est ivre? » Lafayette said with a sharp grin. 

« Oh, je ne sais pas,” Alexander responded sarcastically. “Moi, je pense qu’il est devenu en un koala, avoir une nuit amusante et collante. »

“Speak English,” John complained, breath fanning across Alex’s neck. He chuckled.

”Learn French!”

”Oui! I have told you to learn many many times.”

”French is dumb,” John slurred. He slid down Alex’s body to the floor, arms wrapped around his thighs. Alex blushed. John got a bit touchy-feely when he was drunk.

”I should get him home,” he said to Lafayette. “Tell Herc I said bye.”

“Of course, mon amie,” said Laf, with a twinkle in his eye that Alex regarded suspiciously. Lifting John off the floor of the club, he started leading them out of the building.

”Noooo, why are we leaving?” John moaned.

”Because you need to sleep and get ready for your hangover tomorrow.”

Alex walked down to his car, arm tight around John’s waist. The night was crisp and clear; a night when he could feel fall turning into winter, a bite to the cold air that hadn’t been there before. He looked at John beside him. His freckles shone in the moonlight, and Alex smiled in spite of himself.

When he reached his car, he stopped and pulled out his keys. He positioned John against the car so he could open the door.

John kissed him. 

Not well - he was very drunk, and he missed and ended up smearing his mouth across Alex’s cheek and jaw. But his intention was clear.

He tried again and Alex stepped back, creating enough of a distance between them to avoid any further attempts. John’s eyebrows lifted, eyes wide; he looked scared, almost like he could cry...

That’s when he threw up on Alex’s shoes.

Grimacing, Alex slid off his shoes and helped John into the backseat. He slumped over and before Alex had bagged up his shoes and started the car, he could hear faint snores coming from the back. 

He smiled softly, checked his mirrors, and pulled out into the street. 

* * *

This was not the first time John had kissed him. There had been three others: two drunk, one sober. The drunk ones followed the same pattern as this fourth one had; John drank too much, tried to kiss him, threw up, and fell asleep, not remembering any details the next morning as he nursed his hangover. The sober one, however...

That one had been the first year they were living together outside of college. It was the dead of winter and they were piss poor college graduates; as a result, they had no heat in their shoebox apartment and were huddled together under piles of blankets and quilts sewn by Mrs. Laurens. All they had for distraction was a radio, playing faint Christmas music that echoed against the bare walls. Alex could feel the cold seeping into his bones. He’d shivered, and John had pressed closer to him. To keep him warmer.

”I’m fine,” Alex had argued. “You’re the one who needs the blankets. I’m used to the cold.”

”I haven’t lived in South Carolina in years, so don’t pull that crap with me,” John had retorted. “Shut up and come closer, my hands are freezing.” 

Without warning, John had grasped Alex’s hand - he sat very still, unsure what to do. John was like this, he was realizing more and more. Assuring and confident in his touch. Alex, on the other hand, never knew what to do. When words failed him, he failed. So he had sat very still, hoping that he wouldn’t scare John off, because his hand was warm and smooth against his own.

”My hand will be sweaty.”

John had scoffed and moved still closer. “I love your sweaty hands.” Grinning, he lifted Alex’s hand to his face and started rubbing his cheek with the palm. “Yay, Alexander’s hands!”

Alex had laughed in spite of himself. John smiled, and without thinking Alex swept his thumb along John’s cheekbone. The smile dropped from his face. His eyes were bright and teasing still, but with an undercurrent of something more. Slowly, giving Alex time to pull away if he wanted to, John moved forward. 

Alex stayed still. 

Their mouths met in a careful, hesitant brush; then John slipped his hand around the back of Alex’s neck and pulled him closer, kissing him with more urgency. Alex only realized as John was finally pulling away that this was something he’d wanted for a long, long time.

”Woah.”

John had laughed. He had opened his mouth to speak when the door flung open and Lafayette, Hercules, and Burr had rushed in, wrapped head to toe in sweaters and blankets, shouting about how they’d brought cards and food and the mother of all, a space heater. Alex had jumped away from John.

That had been three years ago. They had never talked about it.

* * *

”It happened again.”

Angelica snorted. “No shit.”

Alex sighed. When he wanted some pity, he really needed to find someone other than Angelica. When they decided to found a law firm together, Alex had praised whatever deities might exist that he’d met her; she was driven and unapologetically so. When it came to matters of the heart, however, she was a little less perfect.

”You’re desperately in love with your old college roommate, and what! You two kissed, again! I never could have seen that coming!”

”Okay, you’ve made your point,” Alex interrupted. “And I’m not ‘desperately in love with him.’ I’m just...fond, that’s all.”

”Wow, for someone with a law degree from Columbia you’re amazingly idiotic.”

“Please be nice.”

”Please tell him. And make out with him. And write him sonnets or something, whatever people like you do. I can’t take the sexual tension anymore!”

”There’s no sexual tension,” Alex argued, which made Angelica snort. “He just gets handsy when he’s drunk.”

”Yeah, and if you didn’t like it you would’ve talked to him about it a long time ago.”

Touché. Alex frowned and turned back to his computer, a sure sign of defeat. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

”Talk. To. Him.”

”Get. To. Work.”

Angelica smiled, pointed and triumphant, and carried a stack of briefings to the copier. Alex tried to focus on his computer, but found himself distracted.

”What if,” he said slowly, “I...was more than fond?”

”You tell him,” Angelica said, thankfully not making a big deal of the question. “Communicate. You wrote like 50 editorials in six months, you should know how to communicate your feelings.”

Alex nodded. “Yeah. I just...communicate.”

”It’s not as scary as it seems.”

”Sure.”

* * *

John wasn’t there when Alex got home, which he wouldn’t have found unusual except for the fact that he arrived after ten, by which time John was usually asleep. A bit worried, Alex sent him a quick text and pulled out his computer, happy that he could work late without being scolded into sleep. The next time he looked up, it was midnight, and he could hear John stumbling around in the other room. Getting up, Alex crept to the door. 

“I had fun too,” John was saying to someone. “The two of us definitely need to go out more.” The person he was talking to muttered something, and John laughed. “I would let you in, but Alex is probably already asleep.”

Alex’s eyes snapped open. Eavesdropping. Oh, that would not recommend him very well. Scrambling back to bed, he slumped against the wall and fixed his computer on his lap, so it looked like he’d fallen asleep while working. As soon as he’d configured this, he heard John enter the room. 

John sighed softly. He came closer and Alex could feel his glasses being lifted off of his face, his computer removed from his lap, and a blanket being pulled over him. “Oh, Alex,” he murmured. “You really are non-stop, aren’t you?” John leaned close enough that Alex could feel his breath fanning across his face, then seemed to hesitate; finally, he pulled away, his hand dropping away from Alex’s hair. Alex could hardly breathe. 

John crossed the tiny room and flopped down on his bed, heaving a sigh. Alex opened one eye.

A date. He’d been on a date.

A tear slipped silently out of his eye, and he put all of his effort into remaining quiet.

* * *

 

Alex was doing what he did best: writing.

It was Eliza’s suggestion, actually. She was the only Schuyler sister that could be depended on to give good advice in cases like these. She had given him a task: write down what John meant to him, and why, and from there decide whether or not he should bring it up. That way, if it was just a vague inclination he wouldn’t have to ruin their friendship.

 _I care for John because he’s beautiful, inside and out. He takes all of the things that make me despair of the world and turn them into insignificant nothings. He has the truest soul of anyone I’ve ever met. He makes me feel like I belong somewhere. He’s my best friend in the entire world. He makes my heart flutter. This is cheesy._ Alex sighed, and continued typing, although words seemed to be failing him at the moment. _John makes me smile. He believes in me. He cares for me, and I for him. I never want to go a day without seeing him. When he did that semester in London I thought I might die. I love him._

Alex pressed ‘enter’ and scrolled through the document, reading over the pages. Well, that was a pretty clear sign. Heaving another sigh, he turned away from the computer and went to get a shower. Standing under the hot water, he took a moment to think. John was very, very important to him. He was his best friend. But where did that platonic love become romantic love? How was he supposed to find the line in the sand when he’d never been in love before? 

Angelica had said that there was sexual tension. But there wasn’t, not really. Sure, Alex wanted (badly, sometimes) to experience that with John but that wasn’t the heart of it. It was barely in the ballpark. They had kissed a few times, yeah, but Alex felt just as much when their hands brushed or John pulled him into a hug or slung an arm around his shoulders as they walked down the street. Eliza said that you just knew when you were in love. Alex didn’t think it was that simple. He’d loved Laurens for a long time; pretty much as soon as they became friends. What other shocking moment could occur? 

As Alex stepped out of the shower, he felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. His friendship with John was everything - better than trying to date, where things got messy. He wouldn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He already had John in just about every way he wanted him, and he wouldn’t risk giving that up for anything. He walked back into the room, towel wrapped around his waist, and stopped short when he saw John staring at the computer screen, which still held the document Alex had been working on.

Well, _fuck_.

”John,” Alex said slowly, taking a few cautious steps forward, “that isn’t what you think it is.”

”You love me,” John murmured, eyes wide. “You...you love me?”

”No, you don’t understand - “

”You wrote it down, Alex!”

Alex nodded rapidly. “Yes and that is damning evidence but I swear, this isn’t anything. You’re my best friend, that’s it.”

”’He makes my heart flutter’?”

”In a bro way,” argued Alex. “Seriously, John, this is just something stupid Eliza told me to do. To get in touch with my emotions, or something like that. I don’t feel anything like...like _that_  for you.”

John’s face fell a bit. “You don’t?”

”No,” Alex said emphatically. “Truly.”

John turned away, hands going to cover his face. His back quivered a bit. With relief, Alex guessed, gladder with every passing moment that he’d decided to keep his mouth shut. “Listen, man,” he began, but he was interrupted by John charging forward and out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Alex blinked. Damn it. Maybe he’d messed up more than he thought.

* * *

When Alex heard John open the door in the wee hours of the morning, he slid out of bed and went into the main room to talk. John was taking off his coat, and Alex got as close as he dared, close enough to smell the stench of alcohol coming off of John’s close. “Hey,” he said softly. John took a deep breath, and turned to face him. 

“I’m in love with you,” he said.

”....Oh.”

”I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember,” John continued, staring straight at Alexander. “You’re everything to me.”

Alex swallowed hard. “You’re just drunk, John.”

”No, I’m not.” Alex raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been drinking, but I’m not drunk. I don’t want this to be like the other times.”

”Don’t want what to be like the other times?”

Slowly, deliberately, John stepped forward, took Alex’s face in his hands, and kissed him deeply. Alex lost his balance and fell into John’s arms. Soon (too soon), John pulled away and stepped back, breathing heavily. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know this isn’t what you want. I just...I needed to do that. I’m going to stay at Laf’s place tonight.”

”Wait,” Alex said breathlessly. “Wait, just - just hang on a second, okay? This is kind of coming out of nowhere.”

John snorted. “How many times have I kissed you, again? How many goddamn times have I put myself out there?”

”You were drunk,” Alex shot back. “You’re probably drunk now, this is just...this is all just the beer talking. You won’t be saying these things by tomorrow morning.”

John looked hurt. “I’m not drunk. This is...forget it. Laf told me to be honest and open, and I was. You don’t feel the same way. It’s fine.”

”Hey now, it’s not fine.”

”God, Alex,” John hissed, “I’m already ashamed, please don’t do this. I can’t lose you completely, I can’t - “

”You aren’t going to,” Alex interrupted. “Listen, John, I - “ He took a deep breath and closed the distance between them, clutching John’s stiff hand. “I don’t know how I feel.” John’s head fell, and Alex quickly continued. “I love you. Of course I love you. I’m just not sure if I love you... _that_  way. But you’re my best friend and that’s never going to change.”

”Okay,” John whispered, a tear sliding down his cheek. “Let me go get my stuff.”

Alex’s heart dropped to his feet. “What?”

”I told you, I’m staying at Laf’s.”

”But -“

John pushed past. Alex stood still for a moment, then trod after him into the bedroom, where John was shoving clothes and a toothbrush into his bag. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said. 

“Please don’t go. Please, let’s just talk, we’ll figure this out.”

John shook his head.

* * *

”I wasn’t sure where else to go,” Alex said, eyes shifted downwards. George swung the door open wider. 

“Come in, Alexander,” said his foster father. “Wipe your feet.”

Alex wiped his shoes on the mat as obeyed before stepping into the house. It looked exactly as it had when he’d left it at 18; comfortably furnished, thanks to the Washington wealth, with the same stack of magazines on the coffee table and the towering staircase that, even now, made Alex want to fold in on himself. “Come in to the kitchen,” George said, with a kindness that made Alex resent him. He hadn’t so much as texted since he’d graduated, and he couldn’t remember the last time he stepped foot in this house. George should have turned him away. Or done anything rather than bring him into the kitchen and start pouring him a glass of warm apple cider. 

“How’s the law firm doing?” he asked warmly.

”Fine. That’s, uh, not why I’m here.” George nodded, inviting him to continue. Alex took a gulp of apple cider first. “Got any whiskey to put in this?” At George’s unimpressed look, he sighed. “You remember John Laurens?”

A smile spread on George’s face. “Yes, I do. Laurens was a good kid.”

”He’s...” Alex sighed and raked his hands through his hair. “It’s a mess.”

”Would you like a biscuit?”

Alex took one. 

“You know,” George said, “Martha and I fostered for, oh, twenty-five years or so. Kids of all shapes and sizes walked through those doors. But you, without a doubt, are the one I’m proudest of.” Alex ducked his head. “You were always a bit too independent for your own good, but you were determined to make something of yourself. And you did.” He smiled and looked at his own glass of cider. “You wrote your way out of the bad hand dealt to you. Whatever’s going on with Laurens, you can figure that out too.”

”I was horrible to you,” said Alex. “I yelled at you and Martha all the time, I ran out of here as soon as I could. Why are you being so nice to me? You should be angry, you should be kicking me out or something - “

”Alexander, please. Drink your apple cider.” He only continued after Alex had done so. “Now. What’s going on?”

”...John said he was in love with me,” Alex admitted meekly. “After - well, there’s kind of a story...”

Alex told him everything: the kisses, the Word document, the comments from their friends, what John had said, what _he_ had said. When he’d finished, George looked at him thoughtfully. 

“I’m not sure if you’re in love or not,” he said. “Only you can decide that. But I want you to take a step back. Ignore for a moment how close your friendship has been. If he asked you to marry him tomorrow, what would you say?”

Alex frowned. He didn’t answer, because he knew what his answer would be, and George smiled. “I think you know you love him. I think you’re just scared.” He held up his hand to stop Alex’s angry outburst. “As anyone would be. The day I proposed to Martha, I very near fainted from terror. There’s nothing that scares you down to your core like love does. It makes us vulnerable. Opens us up. And you’ve never liked being vulnerable.” George finished his apple cider. “So. Go back to the city. Take some time. Think about it. And, whatever conclusion you come to - tell him.”

”But what if it’s the wrong conclusion?”

”You can’t let the fear of making a wrong decision stop you from making a decision.” George stood up. “You were meant for great things, Alexander. I firmly expect you to blow me away, no matter what choice you make. And this home will always be open to you. Remember that.”

When Alexander walked out of the house, a weight he hadn’t realized had been settled on his shoulders disappeared into the clear night air. He watched it float up to the stars - such beautiful constellations, completely hidden from view in the city. Stepping into his car, he called Lafayette. 

“Mon amie, this is not the best - “

”Tell John I’m coming to see him. I’ll be there in less than two hours.”

Alex hung up, smiled, and stepped on the gas.

**Author's Note:**

> « Je ne sais jamais » - I never know anything.


End file.
